The Photo
by x-Guitar-x-Girl-x
Summary: Shuichi doesn't understand why Yuki won't let him take a photo of his beautiful smile; Yuki doesn't understand why it's so important to him. What will happen when Shuichi tries to get his way?  A work in progress


"Shuichi! Get that camera out of my face before I ram it up your ass!"

Eiri Yuki, renowned romancer both on paper and in the flesh, struggled and failed to retain his composure. He did not really know how his life has come down to this. It had all started so innocently; one week, he had said. Just one week. Yet three years later, his strawberry-scented shampoo and all manner of girlish products had somehow crept their way into their shared bathroom, arrogantly mocking him every time he opened a cupboard._ Their shared_ bathroom. How had it come to this? He maintained it was just a fling, he wasn't gay, oh no._ The_ Eiri Yuki couldn't possibly be. Eiri Yuki – the romancer who could get any woman into bed. But in the three years he had been in his life, Eiri Yuki hadn't been with anyone else. It was strange. Unnatural. But true.

Said romancer was currently prising his younger lover off him, shoving him with unnecessary force. Then again, he could be rather adamant when he wanted to be and this was just one of those days.

"I said – get off!" he exclaimed once more.

"But Yukiii!" the pink one replied. "I just want a picture of you to keep while I'm away!"

Yuki grimaced. "I don't want to know what you get up to when I'm not around, horny brat. Can't you just jack off that long-haired guitarist friend of yours? I don't appreciated being used as a sex image. It's creepy," Yuki tried to reason.

"But Yukiii!"

Eiri Yuki, great romancer, really needed a drink.

"I bet all your fans spend _their_ free time fawning over the photos of you in your novels!"

"That's different," Yuki replied, reaching for a beer out of _their shared_ kitchen…Yuki found that thought disturbing.

"How, Yuki? It's not fair that all these no bodies get to keep a photo of your beautiful smile and yet your boyfriend doesn't!

At around the same time, Yuki and his _boyfriend_ cringed, realising the simple mistake. Eiri Yuki, great romancer of all the women of Japan, did not have a boyfriend. He regarded that term as trite.

Shuichi sighed resignedly. With his head hung low, he slowly wrapped his arms around his older lover, resting his head on Yuki's chest to accommodate for their difference in height, a difference that could not even be overcome by the five-inch heels Shuichi was wearing in anticipation for the first concert of many on their month-long tour around Japan.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Yuki," he whispered gently. "I don't know how I can bear it."

There were very few moments in Eiri Yuki's life when he was speechless. Being a romance novelist, he prided himself on his eloquence of Language and overall composure. Despite this, Eiri Yuki found himself at a loss for words. Instead, he awkwardly patted the pink head below him before grabbing the camera from his lover's delicate hands.

"I don't understand why this is so important to you," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"It's because it's you!" Shuichi exclaimed. "I just want to be close to you!"

Eiri Yuki avoided looking directly at his lover because he knew that once he did, he would never be able to resist those violent violet orbs; of course, he would never tell him this.

"Aren't you going to be late? I don't want that gun-wielding maniac to shoot holes in my new apartment," Yuki said, attempting to redirect Shuichi's attention elsewhere.

"_Our_," the pink-haired male replied softly. "_Our_ apartment, Yuki."

The blonde novelist signed before running a rugged hand over his hair. "I don't have time for this. I have a deadline," he plainly stated before turning to walk into his study.

Shuichi balled his fists and began to shake. "You always have a deadline!"

Eiri Yuki, great romancer, was not having any of it. Turning, he exclaimed "It comes with the job, brat! Stop being over-dramatic."

"I'm going away for a whole month and my boyfr- lover can't even be bothered to say goodbye!" Shuichi shouted. "Tell me how that's being over-dramatic!"

"I can't believe this," the blonde muttered. "Have fun in Kyoto or Tokyo or wherever the hell you're going – just don't expect me to listen when you ring me up at 3am to tell me about your drivelling concert."

Before Yuki could take so much as another step towards his study, he found himself enveloped by a pink snivelling mass.

"You crumble like a cookie," Yuki stated, remaining stock still, not even moving his arms in response to the death-grip.

Mumbles came from below, obscured by Yuki's clothing.

"What, brat?"

Pulling away by just mere centimetres, Shuichi said "I don't want to fight, Yuki. I don't want to leave like this." The arms tightened slightly, as if he were afraid that if he loosened them, Yuki would disappear just like that night in New York…

After a moment of silence, Yuki turned in Shuichi's arms and returned the gesture gently. Shuichi couldn't tell whether the gentleness was from care or from fear of ruining his cool composure, but in that moment he didn't care. Yuki was holding him and that was all that mattered.

Yuki slowly encased his lover's chin in his hand, bending down to meet his lips in a soft kiss. "If it means that much to you, I guess a photo isn't that bad," he said softly, pulling back to look into his face. Shuichi gazed up at his lover with love and adoration in his violet eyes.

"Really?" he exclaimed loudly. Yuki pulled away, grasping his hands to his ears.

"Quiet, brat! I've been up all night!"

"Sorry, Yuki," the younger replied, reaching for his lover's hands. "I'm just excited!"

"Yeah, yeah," Yuki muttered. "Let's just get this over with."

Grabbing his younger lover, Yuki hauled him into his study.

"Yukiii," he whined. "No work!"

"Brat," was all the blonde muttered before pulling his chair out from under the desk and unceremoniously dumping Shuichi on it. Shuichi looked up, confusion etched on his face. "Yuki?"

Rather than reply, Yuki fiddled through the camera controls, muttering under his breath about how a camera could need so many buttons. Finally, with a triumphant smirk, he found the right setting and placed it down on his desk. Ushering Shuichi to move over, he was confused when Shuichi got up and pushed up against his chest. Yuki slowly moved as Shuichi directed, his eyes remaining wary at all times. The pink male shoved Yuki suddenly, causing him to fall backwards into the chair.

"What the hell?" Yuki shouted.

With a cheeky grin, Shuichi launched himself atop his lover, wrapping an arm around him for support. "That's better," he said with a smile.

With his free hand, Shuichi leant across Yuki's lap to push the shutter button.

"Say cheese!" he yelled happily, pulling Yuki in closer.

With a flash, it was over. Ecstatic, Shuichi, still grasping onto Yuki's shoulder for support, grabbed the camera off the desk and flicked to the review slide. Suddenly, his perfect smile began to shift.

"Yuki!" he shouted. "You're not smiling!"

Leaning over, Yuki glanced at the photo, confirming what he already knew. "That's as good as it gets."

As Yuki moved to stand, Shuichi squirmed, holding the blonde steadfast in the chair. "No, Yuki! I want one of your smile!"

Yuki rubbed his forehead, sensing the impending headache.

"Get off me," he said, attempting to keep his voice level.

Shuichi shook his head. "No. No, no, no, no, no."

"Damn it, Shuichi!" Yuki exclaimed. With no warning, he lifted himself from the chair, using his hands on the armrests to pull himself up. Startled, Shuichi panicked and flung his arms out to grab onto Yuki's shoulders but they weren't where they had been a moment ago. Crying out, Shuichi fell from Yuki's lap, landing with a tremendous crash on the floor below.

Snickering at the idiot's antics, Yuki made to leave. His hand had just grasped the door handle when he heard a well-known sound. Shuichi was crying, huddled in a heap on the floor.

But something was different; Yuki realised that much. Instead of the loud bawling he was accustomed to, Shuichi was not crying– he was whimpering.

Striding over, Yuki bend down and tried to grasp Shuichi's arm in an attempt to haul him up. But he let go, as if he had been electrified, at the sound of Shuichi screaming in terror.

"What the hell?" he shouted, only causing the pink ball to whimper harder.

Kneeling down, Yuki gently called his lover's name, running his hand through the pink locks. "Shu?"

Shuichi's breathing slowly evened out, his cries ebbing away. Gingerly, he raised his head. Yuki could barely stand to look into those beautifully sad eyes.

"Shu?" he repeated, trying to mask the tone of concern in his voice.

"Yuki," the younger replied, his voice unsteady, breaking in the middle.

Shuichi looked down. Yuki followed his gaze. Close to his chest, Shuichi cradled his broken wrist.


End file.
